


Redamancy

by Ariejul



Series: Alone in the Fallout [13]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Adult Content, Adult Language, But Deacon can't say it, Deacon shares!, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friendship/Love, Getting to know you, Happy Thoughts too, Heart-to-Heart, I Love You, Lust, Oral Sex, Past Pain, Post-Coital Cuddling, Romantic Gestures, Sole Survivor takes the reigns, Spoilers, Surprises, Vaginal Sex, sad thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 08:15:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11331915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ariejul/pseuds/Ariejul
Summary: Redamancy: a love returned in full, the act of loving the one who loves you.Deacon gives Julia a gift that is long overdue.Post-game.





	Redamancy

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all... this series is turning me into the smut queen. Seriously, I dunno where it's coming from. It's just _happening._
> 
> All. 
> 
> The. 
> 
> _TIME._
> 
>  
> 
> ANYway, I had most of this piece written before Commouvere, and I have been seriously about to explode with anticipation for everyone to read it. I haven't honestly run across a lot of fics that approach this particular subject (which I will talk about more in my post note. Don't want to spoil the surprise ;3), but it's something I think would come up eventually in a relationship with our favorite pathological liar. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy. :)
> 
> Your comments/kudos give me such great motivation!
> 
> Again, no beta.

The sun is waning in the sky, and Julia is pulling Deacon into her bedroom. Her hands roam underneath his shirt the moment the door’s shut, pushing the offending garment over his head in one smooth motion. Shaun’s spending the night with the MacCreadys, and she isn’t about to let this opportunity pass her by. She’s been craving his touch for _days._

Her eyes rake over him, taking in the scars covering his frame. They speak of a hard life, and her heart aches in the knowledge of it. If she could, she’d take that pain from him, carry it as her own without hesitation.

“Likin’ what you see?” he asks huskily, his own hands unfastening her jeans and sliding them off her hips as he kisses her neck. His hands wander to her rear, grabbing possessively.

“Ungh, you… know it,” she murmurs, fumbling with his pants, managing to push them down. She shoves him back on the bed, standing over him. He clumsily kicks his feet free of the offending clothing and watches her on raised elbows. Damn, but those eyes of his are killing her.

She strips off her shirt, stepping out of her jeans and over to him. Dropping to her knees a bit bashfully, she presses her hand against him, sliding up his dick, and the sound he makes is the sweetest thing she’s ever heard. Stroking him slowly a few times, she presses a kiss against the tip. Hungry blue eyes watch as she takes him in her mouth, working with lips and tongue in aching precision. Deacon’s making sounds she’s never heard before, and it does nothing but light a fire in her gut, grip tightening on his thighs. With one last suck, she pulls away with a small popping sound.

He whines at the lack of touch, but Julia pays it no mind as she stands, absently running her palm up him as she shifts, grinning at his sharp intake of breath. Using his shoulders for balance, she slowly climbs onto the bed, straddling his lap. Her lips press against his hungrily as his hands wander over her breasts. Fuck, that feels too good. She slides down onto him in an agonizingly drawn-out pace, and he groans loudly, gripping her chest.

“Fucking _hell_ , Jules,” he manages, leaning back on his palms and bucking his hips into her.

Tossing her head back, she arches and rocks into his hips in smooth rhythm, flexing tightly around him. Every little sound he makes is music to her ears, a sweet ache lancing through her.

He drops back onto the bed and reaches for her hands, threading their fingers together as she fucks him. The intimacy of it strikes her as sweet pressure builds low in her gut. She increases her pace, and his fingers tighten around her own. Her eyes seek his, and the expression there is a powerful thing that undoes her completely. She unravels, her whole body quaking in ecstasy around him.

Deacon rolls her over in one smooth motion while she’s still quivering. His thrusts are electric and heady through her orgasm, and it utterly overwhelms her already reeling senses. She screams in pleasure, gripping hopelessly at the covers beneath her, writhing against the pillow. Her quicksilver spasms are enough to push him careening over the edge. He gasps sharply with a hard snap of his hips that leaves her seeing stars, and then he’s spent, sliding limply away from her.

Julia manages to stand on wobbling legs a few minutes later to clean up the mess before crawling back into bed and pulling the covers over the both of them.

“You should take the lead more often,” he says, a delighted expression gracing his features. “That was hot as hell.”

“Mmm, yeah. It was definitely intense,” she agrees, curling up against him. She wraps an arm around him, resting her cheek against his chest. Being back in Sanctuary with him has been… lovely beyond words. Deacon feels closer than ever, and he’s even started taking off his sunglasses when they’re alone. Though, part of that might be to keep her from breaking them. She tends to just… toss them wherever in the heat of the moment.

Besides, he has such pretty eyes; she always thought it a shame to leave them hidden. It’s a special thing, something just for her.

But this happiness makes a deep-seated worry coil in her gut. She keeps expecting something to go wrong, for the other shoe to drop, to have it all fall apart. She squeezes him tighter at the thought. Maybe some of Deacon’s paranoia has rubbed off on her.

“Can’t breath,” he jokes, running his fingers through her hair.

She thinks of Nate, and how he was gone forever in the deafening boom of a revolver’s blast. Of the Shaun she birthed, an old man dying from a cancer-ravaged body, raised - and brainwashed - by the very place that stole him away. There was nothing she could do. Tears prick at the corners of her eyes, and she hates her own weakness. “Deacon, I love you.”

His hand stills at that, fingers minutely gripping her scalp, and Julia’s heart jumps into her throat. Should she not have said that? It isn’t his first time hearing it, not by a long shot, but maybe it’s too much right now. It’s hard to tell sometimes. Julia opens her mouth to smooth things over, but –

“Ryan,” he says so softly she almost misses it.

Her heart skips a beat, and she looks up at him. “What?”

He swallows, clearly uncomfortable, but continues on. “My name. My _real_ name.” Deacon doesn’t look at her, averting his naked gaze. She can still see the raw fear there and something deep down twists painfully.

Testing the feel of it on her tongue, she reaches up and gently turns his face to hers. “Ryan,” she breathes, and he jolts, pupils blown wide. The blush, she thinks, looks decidedly gorgeous on his face. Leaning up, Julia slowly presses a languid kiss to his lips. Meeting those beautiful, melancholy eyes she’s loved for so long, she says, “I love you, Ryan.”

Suddenly she finds herself crushed in the circle of his arms, ear pressed against his chest. The beat of his heart is thundering fiercely, and she can feel the way he trembles against her. “You keep saying things like that, and we might have a real problem on our hands.”

She shifts, smiling into his chest, and clings to him. “What kind of problem?”

Julia can imagine the grin on his face, even without looking. “The kind that leaves you thoroughly and devastatingly ravished. Again. Oh, and walking funny. Preston will be scandalized.”

“How is that a problem?” she asks, heat coiling low in her belly at the thought of it. Walking funny is a small price willingly paid.

Deacon laughs low, a sultry sound that lances straight to her core. His hands are rubbing her back in slow, circular motions that warm her in a way she hasn’t felt since Nate. “Y’know, I’m gettin’ too old for this sorta passion. Where were you when I was young?”

Julia thinks momentarily of the Vault, and the cold dark of cryo. “Up the hill. On ice.”

Deacon, for his part, realizes his mistake and winces. “Kinda like Sleeping Beauty, only a little less magical, a little more high tech.”

“Nobody kissed me to break that spell,” she whispers, thinking of Kellogg, and the sound his revolver made and how Nate jerked and was still; Shaun’s wails echoing in her ears as the cold crept in again and the _fear_ , wandering through a Vault of nothing but death, stumbling out into the remnants of a life she could never return to. She’d felt so hopeless then, so lost, so _alone_ , like she was ripped apart and put back together wrong. Broken. Sometimes, she still does.

“Kind of a pity,” he says, his arms still around her. She feels safe here, his warmth driving back the cold memories of that Vault and the melancholy that always follows.

“I was terrible company back then. You can ask Nick. Doubt anyone would wanna kiss me. Pretty sure I would have punched the daylights out of anyone that tried.” More like shot them, but that’s splitting hairs at this point.

Deacon laughs pleasantly, and it sends a wave of warm pleasure down to the tips of her toes. “Yeah, you were all guts and grit and not much else.”

“So, you _were_ following me,” Julia says, glancing up toward him. “I had wondered about that.”

A sardonic grin slides onto his face, a hint of guilt flickering in his eyes. “You got me. But in my defense, it isn’t every day someone walks out of a dead Vault, claiming to have seen the Bombs drop, and hellbent on finding her kidnapped child by _any_ means necessary. You maaaay have peaked my interest. Just a bit. Couldn’t have you dying on me without a little getting-to-know-you party, now could I? And man, were you reckless back then. Nearly ran me ragged saving you all the time.”

“I feel like you’re bullshitting me somehow, but I guess I’ll let it slide this time,” Julia replies, studying his face. She could never grow tired of watching him, the way the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles, or the gentle expression he has when he laughs, or how his whole face lights up when he’s happy. The beautiful blue sorrow of his eyes and how it fades just a little when he looks at her is breathtaking. He’s flawed and broken, but exquisite beyond words. And hers. So wonderfully, blessedly _hers._

A part of her still wonders if this is a dream.

“Gonna burn a hole in me if you keep staring like that,” he says after a time, a disquieted lilt to his tone. Even now, Deacon does not enjoy being in the spotlight, not that she blames him. She’d avoid it if she could, too.

Julia hums softly, glancing away. “So… Ryan,” she whispers, still in awe of it.

He’s quiet for a long time. When her eyes cut up toward him again, he’s studying her. “Yeah. It’s… mine,” his voice is halting, like the words are bitter things and difficult to process. “I just… thought… you should, y’know, _know_. Pretty sure you’re the only one left alive that does.”

Julia learned early on that names have power. It’s why the Railroad’s all about code names, even now. It’s safety, a way to distance yourself from the people you care about, people the Institute could use against you. Even with that place gone, Julia still doesn’t know anyone’s real name. It hasn’t bothered her, really. In all this time, she hadn’t even thought to ask Deacon about his own. He’s just… Deacon. Of course it’s an alias, but it didn’t matter.

That he would trust her with this power over him, purely of his own volition, makes her heart ache so sweetly. It’s a gift she hadn’t asked for and never realized she wanted.

“It’s our little secret.” She makes a soft sound, hoping to comfort his fears. “Should I... do you… _want_ me to call you Ryan now?”

He buries his face in her hair, breathing deep. “Only in private,” he finally manages, and she can hear the cracks in his armor shifting, opening a little bit more. She isn’t sure it will ever break completely, but she can see through to the man beneath well enough. The more she sees of him, the more she likes him, and she liked Deacon – _Ryan –_ back when she knew nothing at all.

“Your wish is my… strong recommendation,” she replies, poking a bit of fun. Julia closes her eyes and listens to the heartbeat thudding in the chest beneath her. “Thank you.”

“For what?” His tone is colored with confusion, his hand skimming up her spine.

She shivers against his touch, heat pooling low in her gut. She really has been insatiable lately. A part of her wouldn’t mind another round right here and now, if for no other reason than to practice calling out his real name. His reaction would be a wonderful thing, she’s certain.

“For telling me. For… letting me know that part of you.” Her bare feet tangle with his under the covers, and Julia feels like maybe everything will be okay. That this is a happiness she can keep. "I know it isn't easy."

She certainly hopes so.

“Anytime,” he rasps. Deacon holds her close, humming a lilting tune, one of Magnolia’s she thinks, as he strokes her hair, and Julia falls asleep in the comfort of his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so... it always did irk me a little that Deacon's real name is never actually approached at all in the game. Like, could we not have a conversation to _ask_ about it?! Even if he bullshits us, or evades it, I just wanted to be able to ask. T.T
> 
> Regardless, I think given enough time, he'd be willing to let someone he really cared about know it. I think it's probably a pretty painful reminder of all the awful shit he's done in the past, but maybe this is his way of trying to make it into a positive.
> 
> And why yes, I totally used the first name of Deacon's (and H2-22's) awesome voice actor, Ryan Alosio. Who, I would also like to point out, is hot as hell. https://vignette3.wikia.nocookie.net/fallout/images/0/0d/Ryan_Alosio.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20160809214827  
> See?!


End file.
